Brick by Brick
by TheVictoriousMC
Summary: Ishbal is still totally destroyed after Promised Day. Roy and Riza decide to attempt at rebuilding the destroyed region even better than before. Will the rebuilding be enough to make up for all the crimes they committed seven years prior? Only time shall tell. Roy and Riza will need to build Ishbal again from the ground up-brick by brick. Royai.
1. Chapter 1: Post-Promised Day

**A/N: Hey there, reader! This is my first fanfiction, in honor of the lovely ship we call "Royai." Without further ado, here it is. Hope I don't disappoint.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA, but I do own my plot.**

**Brick by Brick**

Chapter 1: After Promised Day

It was a cool autumn evening in Central. A golden leaf slowly drifted down to rest on the grey cobblestone street. Loud automobiles trundled past dark shops that were already closed for the night. Happy couples were walking down the sidewalks together, heads inclined towards each other, conversing quietly. A blind woman walked her dog down a street that was lit by newly installed street lamps. The full moon shone luminously, making the yellow lamps adorning the sidewalks dull in comparison.

None of these fine details escaped the watchful gaze of Riza Hawkeye, who used to be one of the best snipers in the military, if not _the _best. Her watchfulness that others might call paranoia was simply too deeply ingrained in her being for her to let go.

Riza was sitting at an outdoor dinner table, her legs crossed, right over left. She wore an elegant gold dress and minimal jewelry, a fairly simple look; her trademark. Some would say when talking about Riza that she was "too plain" or "too boring." People who knew her more intimately would say something more along the lines of "less is more". One of those in the latter category was with her that night, sitting at the seat directly opposite to her.

He had cut his messy black hair a few weeks ago. When Riza asked him why, he responded by saying it was a "fresh start". The man also wore a dark blue tuxedo and matching dress pants. After years of serving in the military, Riza guessed that dark blue had grown on him, no matter how much he hated the organization that forced the suffering of so many people across Amestris. After all, there _were_ some really good times to be had in the military, most of which had happened in their old office among the little group of soldiers he and Riza had begun to call 'family'.

He folded his hands in his lap and smiled at Riza, a smile which she had become familiar with after they both quit the military. The relaxed upward curl of his lips conveyed a peaceful state of mind, a very rare quality to have in active duty, especially in wartime. "Old habits die hard, huh?"

She merely nodded. "It's not just a habit. Protecting you will be something I always do, Roy."

He crossed his arms. "If I told you we were out of the military and everyone is at peace, you wouldn't care one bit." It was a statement, not a question.

Riza's only response was to keep on discreetly scanning her surroundings.

Roy decided to change his approach. "Come on, Riza," he half-whined. "Right now we're at a date I've been looking forward to for my whole life. At least relax a little and enjoy tonight."

The former First Lieutenant turned towards him. "Roy, you've only known me since our teens," she deadpanned, but her lips were almost unperceptively twitching at the corners. "It's impossible for you to have been looking forward to one date with the daughter of your teacher your whole life. Maybe half, I could believe that." Her lips were definitely twitching into a smile.

Roy growled. "Please don't bring my age into this, Riza. I feel old enough wearing this stuffy tux already." Roy picked at the bowtie on his tuxedo for emphasis.

That finally earned a grin and a laugh from Riza. "You're so touchy about your age." As Roy glowered at her from across the table, the woman relented. "Aging isn't a bad thing, you know," Riza reassured, not entirely dishonestly. "People can still look good at seventy. Besides, you've still got a long way to go."

Roy uncrossed his arms. "I'll have to, if I want to have my gorgeous partner with me for the rest of my life. Beauty attracts beauty, as they say."

Riza smiled thinly. "You always have had a silver tongue, Roy."

Roy's eyes twinkled. "And you've always been able to resist it."

In the few seconds of silence that passed, there was a vast change in the atmosphere of the restaurant. A more foreboding feeling stole upon the two ex-military members. A small difference of the rustle of the wind in the trees and the clouds passing over the moon made both adults tense up in readiness, but for what they did not know.

Roy's former bodyguard and adjutant leaned forward, still smiling. "Hey, did you hear what Havoc's been up to?" Her eyes narrowed slightly. _There's something wrong here. Can you feel it?_

The dark-haired man leaned in close to Riza and smiled at the mention of their old friend. "Nope. Got some news?" He gave Riza a little nod. _Yeah. What do you think it might be? _

Riza looked away at the empty streets and tucked her long hair behind her ears before leaning back in. "Well…I heard that he and Breda set up a bar with Rebecca. The first shop in Madame Christmas' chain." _It's too quiet. No one is on the streets anymore. Something must have scared them away._

As Roy moved his hand atop Riza's, she noticed there was a carefully hidden hint of worry in his eyes. "Really? She's starting a chain now. Huh." He reached in his pocket. _Let's show this thing we know it's here._

Riza smiled grimly. "Yeah. I just hope she stays based in Central." The sniper's eyes flashed. _Now!_

As one, the couple stood up back-to-back and readied their weapons of choice at the unknown threat. Roy had pulled on his gloves and was prepared to snap at a moment's notice, while Riza had two loaded pistols that she pointed separate directions as her hazel eyes searched relentlessly for her target.

She didn't have to look long. "Oh, hi! You've finally noticed me! Now we can play!" Roy and Riza looked up to see a large, somewhat round silhouette jump off the roof of the restaurant. Both humans turned to face the newcomer.

Large, round, bulbous nose. Soulless white eyes. Bold red lines going from his shoulders to just short of his hands. Overweight body, jammed in tight black clothes. All these features were terrifying, but the scariest part of the creature was the red Ouroboros tattoo on the thing's tongue.

_Gluttony._

Roy's eyes widened impossibly far. "No…I thought you were consumed by Pride!"

The Homunculus frowned. "I was? Oh yes, I was. It really hurt! But then the hurting stopped… and I died." The fake human spread his arms. "Now I'm all better! I came back!"

Riza's arms were trembling as she pointed her pistols at the babyish Homunculus. "How did you come back? Once you guys die, you're not supposed to regenerate. Who the hell brought you back!?" Roy looked, alarmed, at Riza. She seemed to have completely lost her composure.

Gluttony ignored her question. "Where's Lust? I want my Lust!" He stared at Roy. "Have you seen my Lust?"

Riza's brow creased, still angry and confused, but she carefully watched Roy for his response.

Roy's right eyebrow started twitching, but the rest of his body was seemingly completely at ease. "Lust? Don't you remember, Gluttony?"

Gluttony thought for one second. "Nope," he replied cheerily. "I don't. Where's Lust," he repeated.

Riza sighed mentally. This was taking entirely too long! Roy needed to stop dancing around the answer and just tell Gluttony, but he evidently wasn't going to any time soon. Time was of the essence. With each second, Gluttony got more and more confused, which could soon turn into anger. "She's dead," Riza said bluntly, the words cutting through the building tension like a razor.

The restaurant became even quieter as Gluttony slowly turned towards Riza. "Lust is…dead?" Roy got a strong feeling of déjà vu.

"Riza…be careful," he whispered. "This could end very badly."

She only nodded as Gluttony stood stock-still before her. "How? Who? Oh no…Lust…my Lust…" He sat down and began sucking the tips of his fingers. "Who? Who killed my Lust?" He sharply looked up at Riza. "Tell me who killed my Lust!"

Riza stayed dead quiet.

The Homunculus got up and started advancing towards her. "TELL ME! Who killed my Lust!?"

She looked at the mass of black-clothed flesh in front of her. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that." Roy tensed, anxious.

"TELL ME!"

As Gluttony pounced on her, Riza fired her guns. Once. Twice. Three times. Roy was watching, frozen at the sudden turn of events. The fourth shot never came. Gluttony was upon her. Slamming her into the ground, he brought his snarling face and luminous red eyes into the direct view of the former First Lieutenant.

"WHO KILLED MY LUUUUUUST?!"

* * *

Wide hazel eyes burst open to stare into a fluffy, white expanse of fabric. The woman's heart was racing as she panted into her pillow. _Just a dream._

The woman rolled onto her back, but instantly regretted doing so. As the mattress pressed against her tattoo, the familiar pain coming from her old burn scars instantly flared up. Sighing, Riza flipped back over to her stomach. It had been nearly seven years since she asked Roy to burn the dangerous secrets on her back, yet she still wasn't fully adjusted to not being able to lie on her back in bed. However, that one discomfort never once made Riza regret the decision _or_ hate Roy, no matter what he thought. The choice was between the possible suffering of countless people and the discomfort of one virtually insignificant soldier. How could Riza feel if she was indirectly responsible for another Ishbal that would be caused by her flame alchemy? Already too many people had been killed.

The First Lieutenant slowly got up out of the bed, trying not to move her back too much. She walked over to a small sink in the corner of the room. After turning it on and grabbing a glass, Riza took a long draught of water.

A voice drifted across the room. "Bad dreams, Lieutenant?"

The glass vessel nearly slipped out of Riza's hands, but she recovered from her startled state in time to catch it. "It's not wise to be speaking in the middle of the night, sir. The other patients are all sleeping—you could wake them up." She didn't let her surprise show.

Roy scoffed. "This is a VIP room, Hawkeye. The walls are pretty thick, and we're isolated from the bulk of the patients." He shifted in his bed to look at her with his unseeing eyes. "Leave it to you to worry about others."

Riza silently took a sip of water, leaning against the sink. "The dream was different than normal," she said. "Not…Ishbal."

"A good different, or a bad different?"

Riza paused thoughtfully. "A little of both, I suppose," she replied after a moment.

Roy sat up. "How so? What happened in your dream?"

His bodyguard's gaze sharpened as she glared at the cup in her hands. "With all due respect, sir, I didn't know you became a therapist in the past few years."

The Colonel put his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Hawkeye. I didn't know this dream was a bad subject." He slyly looked in Riza's direction. "Say…was this dream about a guy?"

The sniper's face was completely neutral as she turned to look at her superior. "I have hardly had any time to be trying to find a love interest, Colonel, especially due to the preparations for Promised Day I had to arrange. Not to mention the work as King Bradley's secretary—the Fuhrer is always busy. My nights were all spent doing leftover paperwork and organizing the day's agenda."

Roy's face became more serious. "Maybe that'll change now." Faint surprise registered on Riza's face as Roy continued on. "You've been my most faithful subordinate over the years. Perhaps even one of my best friends…no, scratch that. You're like family to me, Riza." Roy burrowed down into his sheets, turning away from Riza as he mumbled the last sentences. "I just want you to slow down your life. Everything's been so fast for you, between your father, Ishbal and protecting me. You should enjoy yourself now, Hawkeye. You've really earned the right to have a good life from now on."

Riza's face was unreadable as she stared at her empty cup of water. "Even if I have, sir, I couldn't." She looked up at Roy with a determined gaze, yet there was soft affection lurking in the hazel depths. "After all, you aren't Fuhrer yet, and my _real_ job is to get you to the top."

Roy gave a small chuckle, having expected Riza to say something along the lines of what she said. "Yeah, it was worth a try. Night, First Lieutenant."

Riza gave him a small smile from where she was about to climb into her bed.

"Good night, Colonel."

**A/N: If you liked it, please drop a review for the baby of the Homunculi team :P. Gluttony's kinda adorable. Happy Royai day!**


	2. Chapter 2: An Eventful Week

**A/N: I've had this written up for a while; just not edited. Then today I realized..._Oh crap! It's already halfway through the summer, and I haven't uploaded anything since Royai Day!__  
_**

**Suffice to say, I finished editing in a panicked flurry, hoping I could get this up today.**

**I hope you'll enjoy!**

* * *

**Brick by Brick**

Chapter 2: An Eventful Week

The next morning, Riza awoke to bright light streaming in through the open window. The sun's greeting was a foreign feeling to Riza, but not entirely unwelcome. Riza usually got up before 5 AM, when it would be still dark out. The Lieutenant got up and stretched. _I must have been up later than I thought,_ Riza mused.

Her fellow patient and roommate, Roy Mustang, came into the room, arms full of plastic bags. "I come bearing breakfast," he declared around a bagel. "All for you, milady. " He bowed theatrically.

Riza frowned, concerned. "Sir, why did you get us breakfast? In your condition, too."

Roy put the bags down and took the bagel out of his mouth. "Well, I decided I owed you something after keeping you up so long. The hospital food here is terrible, so I thought I would get breakfast." Roy seemed slightly pleased with himself.

"Sir," Riza began. "You're blind_._ Getting breakfast isn't like it used to be. A walk across the street could be fatal. If you die, how are you supposed to become Fuhrer? What would happen to the country after that?" Riza's eyes were disapproving, but held the slightest hint of worry as she looked at Roy.

The man she addressed took a bite of his bagel. "True enough. Only, I didn't cross the street or even exit the hospital. I called Breda to bring the food, so I didn't go too far—only down to the lobby. Plus, I had a doctor escort me to Breda." Roy felt his way over to his bed after offering Riza a small grin. "I'm not _that_ reckless."

"Your past experiences would beg to differ," Riza said under her breath.

Roy pouted. "What, am I really that bad?"

Riza ignored that comment. "You haven't eaten yet," she said, changing the subject.

Roy opened his mouth to reply, but Riza cut him off by setting one of the to-go boxes down next to him. His head jerked over to where the box landed and his fingers crept over to examine the food. "Don't try to deny it," Riza said as Roy opened the box. "I know all of your excuses." Her eyes were faintly amused. Roy began eating.

Taking a box for herself, Riza heard Roy hum in appreciation as he began to wolf down the pancakes. "These are some good pancakes. Breda sure knows his stuff."

Riza only nodded. The rest of the meal was eaten in a companionable silence. Wiping her fingers on a napkin, Riza brought up a somewhat worrisome topic that had been on her mind as of late.

"Colonel…what do you think the military will do about Ishbal, now that we are at peace?"

There was a silence. Then Roy responded. "With no one in the conference **[1]** to support the Ishbalan people, I would imagine Scar and Miles would be alone in their rebuilding efforts." Roy shook his head with disapproval. "Even with all the help the Ishbalan people gave us, most Amestrian citizens are still prejudiced against them. It'll be a long way yet for the Ishbalans."

Riza nodded. "Yes. Their path to trust is harder because of all the lies and propaganda the military spread. The other citizens' unjust discrimination against the Ishbalans is not entirely the other citizens' fault. It is the military's fault." Riza rested her chin in her palm in thought. "So, in light of that, what if a few military members supported the Ishbalan people?

Roy looked in her direction quizzically. Riza elaborated. "Support…as in aiding the recovery efforts and speaking for them at the military conferences."

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"It depends on what you think I'm suggesting, sir," Riza replied coolly.

Roy took a deep breath and exhaled. "Are you saying we should back the Ishbalans? Not only back, but take an active part in their recovery process?"

"Yes, sir." Riza steadily looked at her superior. The gears began turning in Roy's head.

"Sir?" Riza said after a pause. "What are you thinking?"

Roy nodded thoughtfully. "I think it's a great idea," he said sincerely. "But why the change in thoughts? I mean, it's almost impossible to make up for everything we've done in the Ishbalan War. What everyone who participated in the war was so morally _wrong_ that…" Roy shook his head. "Why?" he asked Riza again, looking, for all sense or the word, lost.

Riza understood. Everything that happened in Ishbal was so overwhelming that it was easy to get mixed up in confusing thoughts about their experience in the war. But that meant that it was her job to set Roy's thinking back on track. "Even if we can't completely atone for what happened in the past, we should still focus on what we can do to help the Ishbalans in the present. Our objective shouldn't be to make up for what we did, but to help the Ishbalans however we can. Right now, the best way to help the Ishbalans is to get directly involved with the rebuilding of Ishbal."

Roy stayed silent through Riza's speech, his face a mask.

"The first step is to go to the conference and support the Ishbalans as an important military official, ensuring them aid more quickly. Once the first rebuilding efforts have begun, we can go to Ishbal and help manage the process."

There was a silence.

Then Roy sighed. "I've been stupid, Hawkeye. Somewhere along the way, I completely forgot the goal was to help the Ishbalans."

Riza waited for him to elaborate, but he stopped there.

Suddenly, Roy stood up. "Hawkeye, I think it's about time we did something for the Ishbalans," he said with alacrity, his eyes shining with determination. "Let's go find some books on Ishbal. When the higher-ups allow us to begin this project, we should be as knowledgeable as we can be, correct?" He looked newly revitalized

Riza blinked at Roy's sudden shift in demeanor, but briskly stood up as well. "Should I inform the other members of our team, sir?"

Roy paused in his path to the door. "Oh, yeah." He resumed his path to the door, Riza close behind.

VIP rooms came with many perks, but a telephone was not one of them.

* * *

Riza called three members of the Mustang Unit—Breda, Fuery, then Havoc. Breda responded with a solid 'yes' and Fuery the same. Havoc said he would help as much as he could—shipping supplies out, gaining Roy supporters, etc. Roy and Riza were both happy that at least a part of their team would be reunited in Ishbal.

Then the time came to call the last member of the Mustang Unit.

The First Lieutenant picked up the telephone for the final time and dialed Northern Command's number. The phone rang once before it was picked up. "Good morning, you've reached Northern Command. What may I help you with?"

"This is First Lieutenant Hawkeye. I would like to be connected to Second Lieutenant Vato Falman, stationed at Fort Briggs."

"Can I have your ID, please?"

Riza dug through her memory. "TBU611."

"Thank you, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. You will be connected to Second Lieutenant Vato Falman shortly."

A few seconds later, Hawkeye heard the sound of a receiver being picked up. "Lieutenant Hawkeye? Sorry, I was doing drills. Major General Armstrong is pretty strict…even when she isn't actually here."

"It's alright. No harm done. Anyway, I've called to ask you about something."

Falman's voice was slightly mystified. "Ask me something? Well, sure, I guess. Ask away."

Riza proceeded to explain her idea about Ishbal. By the time she was done, Roy was standing next to her tapping his foot impatiently. "Couldn't you have taken less time to explain?" he whispered, still eager to begin research. "We don't have all week."

Riza didn't even spare the comment a verbal reply—her only response was stilling Roy's restless foot with her own. Roy scowled at her, but she was focused on Vato's reply.

She could hear Falman fidgeting in discomfort, and immediately knew something was on his mind. "Vato? Is something wrong?"

A sharp intake from Falman expressed his surprise at the sound of his first name, but he got over the minor shock. "Nothing's wrong…this is just a hard decision. I mean, Major General Armstrong doesn't take to kindly to deserters, even if what you're asking of me isn't _technically_ deserting. However…everyone will take it that way. Everyone here is like a huge family, and I don't want to break these ties." He paused. "You…Mustang…all the others, you're family too. But I know you all would never turn your backs on me for denying your proposal. The Briggs soldiers might. They all go on about survival of the fittest, but…" Falman chuckled. "Under all those icy exteriors, there are caring and compassionate hearts. Even Major General Armstrong. They would feel betrayed if I left them, even more so because Miles has already left." There was a silence on Falman's end of the line as he let Riza digest what he said. "I just can't leave Fort Briggs, Riza. I'm sorry, but I have to decline."

Riza's features were expressionless after Falman's spiel, but her voice was soft. "I understand, Vato. Take care up North, alright? Don't get speared by a falling icicle."

"…Yeah. I'll make sure not to do that."

"See you around."

"See you, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

Riza hung up the phone. As she stared at the receiver under her palm, the sniper felt Roy watching her.

"Falman…he refused to help in Ishbal, didn't he."

A nod from Riza. Roy sighed. "I guess I was sort of expecting this. Those soldiers up in Fort Briggs…they're a tightly-knit bunch. It's what makes them a truly effective defense. I can see why Falman wouldn't want to leave them."

"I almost feel like we're breaking apart," Riza said.

Roy listened as she continued. "Havoc has paraplegia, and Falman is staying up North. That's a third of us. Next thing you know, Fuery will be taken into specialized Communications, and Breda will go to Investigations. We'd be the only ones left, and even _we_ could be split apart. It's not impossible, sir."

Roy shook his head. "No. Our team won't be broken apart. Even if all our different jobs and specialties take us elsewhere, we can still be a team. We've done so many things together, I can't see a future when the 'Mustang Unit' doesn't exist."

Riza raised an eyebrow, still facing the telephone. "With all due respect, how are you so sure, sir?"

Roy chuckled. "How am I so sure? You want to know how I am so sure, Hawkeye?" Roy asked rhetorically. He shrugged. "Well, my reasons are pretty simple, in reality."

"I know that a mother and father stay with their children, even when they're all grown-up."

Riza turned around and eyed Roy, then pulled away from him. She walked over to the coatrack, talking over her shoulder. "Sir, you've been spending too much time with Breda. You do realize he and the others have a betting pool…about us."

Roy had opened his mouth to respond: _Sure, the guys _always _have betting pools._ But, at the last two words, Roy became rooted to the spot and his right eyebrow started twitching. About _him_ and the _Lieutenant?_ Not only is that against military regulations, but anyone could see that their relationship was purely professional.

_But you were just flirting with her,_ an irritating voice reminded him. _Does flirting qualify as 'purely professional'?_

Roy silently cursed the voice. Why did he have a voice in his head, anyway? The little voice sounded like something in a bad romance novel where the guy/girl is in denial, and this all-seeing "little-voice-in-the-back-of-his/her-head" comments on it. Then the guy/girl falls into an even _harsher_ denial…something like he was doing right now.

But wait! That couldn't be right. That would mean that he, Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, was in a bad romance novel! _No…_ Roy shuddered at the thought.

Roy frantically searched for a way to get away from his…_unpleasing_ thoughts. _This is all Breda's fault!_ Breda_ started the whole thing, making that sly little "family" comment. Damn that Breda…he's going to pay for this!_

Roy jumped as Riza's voice jolted him out of his evil scheming. "Colonel. It's time to go."

Roy gave her a quizzical look. "Go? Go where," he asked confusedly.

Riza gave him a completely straight-faced look, trying to see if he was kidding. He wasn't. She inwardly groaned. _He really forgot…_

"Sir, how are we supposed to accomplish rebuilding an entire culture if we know almost nothing about their customs?"

Roy stared blankly at her for a moment. Then it dawned on him. _Oh._ "Yes yes, of course, how could I have forgotten?" He paused. "Wait…"

"Lieutenant, when did we decide to rebuild Xerxes?"

Riza nearly fell over herself in shock. _No...he can't..._really _think…_

_ Xerxes?!_

Riza wanted to repeatedly bang her head on the coatrack. _Really _badly. But of course, she couldn't, because that would not _only_ be professional misconduct, but out of character as well! So she settled for a small exhale of air through her nose. Roy just looked up at her, confused. "Was it something I said?" Roy asked innocently.

Riza stared at him. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

Six days after Mustang and Hawkeye's decision, Doctor Marcoh had visited, offering to heal Roy's eyesight. Everyone (including Mustang, Hawkeye, Breda, Fuery, and Doctor Knox,) had been shocked at Doctor Marcoh's generous offer. Marcoh had elaborated; he felt extremely guilty for using Ishbalans to create his Philosopher's Stone, therefore he would try to redeem himself by healing Roy so that the Colonel could help the remaining Ishbalans. In response, Roy accepted Marcoh's offer, but then insisted that Second Lieutenant Havoc be healed first. In hindsight, no one was really surprised at what Mustang said. He was famous (or infamous, depending on the person's standpoint) for caring for his subordinates.

A day after Marcoh's visit, everyone was taking a break from their Ishbal research. While the others were out having lunch, Roy and Riza got summoned to the hospital's lobby. Two people had shown up at the hospital, asking for Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye.

Stepping out of the elevator, the two military officers walked over to the front desk. The secretary turned around as Riza spoke. "Good afternoon. I am Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye and this is my commanding officer, Roy Mustang. We received a summons to the front desk a minute ago."

The person Riza addressed nodded. "Yes, the two who asked for you are currently waiting outside."

Hawkeye inclined her head in thanks. "Thank you," she replied as she guided Mustang to the exit.

"Have a nice day." The secretary continued his work, content with the normalcy and simplicity of his life. It was a nice day for _him_, indeed.

Riza looked up at the sky as she and Roy walked out the hospital's door. The light gray expanse of stratus clouds above her promised rain at some point of the day, perhaps soon. It was May, so spring would soon be over. Just as well, because spring was Roy's least favorite season.

"Hey Hawkeye," Roy said from beside Riza.

"Sir?"

"Do you see anyone out here? Anyone important?"

Riza took a look at their surroundings. Apart from a few people walking down the sidewalks and cars traveling on the streets, she couldn't see anyone who might have asked for them. "No one who might have summoned us, sir."

Roy hummed, thinking. "Well, I guess we'll have to wait awhile. It's not a bad day to wait outside, based on how it feels."

Riza recalled the ominous-looking sky. She decided not to crash the Colonel's mood with the impending bad weather.

"I just hope it doesn't rain," the Flame Alchemist muttered, as if reading Riza's mind. "I hate spring."

All of a sudden, a voice issued from around the corner. "Why is that, chief? Got some fighting to do you didn't tell me about? A mission?" A very familiar voice preceded the man himself as he strolled into Riza's sight. "Or is it just because you're have a deathly fear of being 'useless', as a certain First Lieutenant puts it."

"That voice," Roy said. "Who is it? It sounds familiar."

Riza didn't respond. "Lieutenant?"

Riza was looking at the blond man walking towards them. Walking. Yes, two, perfectly functional legs. He had his hands in his pockets as he watched Riza quickly recollect herself.

"Lieutenant?! Answer me!"

"Yes, Colonel. That voice would be familiar." Riza's voice was oddly neutral, but she gripped Roy's shoulder tighter.

Feeling the Hawkeye's increased grip, Roy became mildly confused and slightly concerned. "Riza! What's wrong?"

Havoc raised an eyebrow at the sound of First Lieutenant's name, but kept quiet, still waiting for Riza to speak. As if coming out of a stupor, Riza blinked and let out a small laugh, confusing Roy even more. His Lieutenant _never_ laughed like that, especially when the topic was Jean Havoc. "It's only Jean Havoc, sir. You're overreacting."

Roy looked over at the Lieutenant. "But then why…?" He let the question hang in midair.

Riza looked back at Roy, then at Havoc again. "Yes, it's only Havoc, that's true. But I just thought I would never see the day wh—"

The Colonel cut her off impatiently. "The day when _what?_"

Then, everything clicked in Roy's head; a jigsaw finally becoming whole.

Havoc's appearance and cheerful teasing.

The lack of wheelchair noises as Havoc approached them.

Riza's tight grip on Roy's shoulder and her odd behavior.

"—when Havoc got his legs back."

Riza was a very realistic, down-to-earth person. She didn't believe in miracles and tried to avoid giving herself false hopes.

Even with Doctor Marcoh and his Philosopher's Stone, she had _still_ refused to get her hopes up over Havoc's recovery.

Yes, Riza was a firm realist. But at that moment, there was no person more grateful than Riza that for once, reality had yielded to fantasy.

As she looked at Havoc and his restored legs, she wondered: _Maybe it isn't _so_ bad to have hope after all._

Roy made a choking noise in the back of his throat (that he quickly stifled) and beckoned to Havoc. Havoc came over to Roy and Riza. Roy reached out and set a hand on Havoc's shoulder, then felt down to his leg. "So this is real," he said. "Not a dream?"

Havoc nodded. "No dream, boss. Doctor Marcoh did all of the fixing, no help from anyone else. I can feel my legs again, thanks to him and his Philosopher's Stone."

As if on cue, the said doctor walked out from where Havoc had emerged earlier. While Doctor Marcoh was a normally grim man, he couldn't conceal the satisfaction from his features. "Well, the calculations weren't hard at all—most alchemists would have only been held up by the amount of alchemic power needed to complete the transmutation. I did virtually nothing, the Stone did most of the work," he said in his rough voice.

Roy was hardly listening to Marcoh. He hugged Havoc fiercely, overcome with emotion. "I knew you would come back," he said into Havoc's shoulder.

Havoc awkwardly patted Roy's back. "Well, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in the Havoc General Store, no matter how handy the place is. Plus," he added. "Being in the military makes it easier to pick up dates," Havoc said as he broke away from Roy, smirking. "Girls like dashing soldiers like me."

Roy scoffed. "That would explain why your only date in the past year was with a certain _Solaris,_ I presume?"

Havoc scowled. "Please don't bring _that_ up, chief."

Roy scoffed. "Based on your track record, one would say being in the military chases girls _away._ No one would think a walking cancer factory is 'dashing'."

Havoc opened his mouth to reply, but Riza decided to end the banter before it got _too_ far. "Nice to have you back, Havoc," she said quickly, but warmly as she offered her hand to Havoc before he could shoot another witticism at Roy.

Havoc shook the proffered hand with a firm nod. "Lieutenant Hawkeye. It's good to be back," he said. "Sorry I wasn't there at Promised Day. If I could have been able to fight, there's no doubt in my mind that I would have been there, right beside everyone else."

Riza shook her head. "No, don't be sorry. You were very important in the coup d'état in Central—without your weapons and supplies, we would have been killed."

Doctor Marcoh cleared his throat from where he had been standing on the sidelines. "I'm sorry to cut short your reunion, but really, we should be getting started. I've booked a sector of the Alchemic Gardens for our use, and it runs out in 10 minutes."

Roy started. "In only 10 minutes? Why didn't you say something before?"

Doctor Marcoh looked over to the street, taking an interest in a passing automobile. "You were…occupied," he said carefully.

"Oh. Sorry, Marcoh, we didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Roy said sheepishly.

Marcoh shrugged. "I don't mind."

"So, are we gonna go to the car, or what?" Havoc said.

"Yeah," Roy said. He looked at (in the general direction of) Riza. "Shall we?"

She put her hand back on Roy's shoulder. "Let's go."

* * *

The group arrived at the Alchemic Gardens five minutes after they left Central Hospital. The gardens were lush and green with many natural elements ready at the alchemists' disposal. Ponds of water, banks of sand and clay, and stacks of wood were only some of the resources in the gardens. In the center of each section of the Alchemic Gardens, there was a square slate, ready for the drawing of a Transmutation Circle.

Doctor Marcoh had headed straight for the slate when they arrived. He had made all the necessary calculations beforehand, so he only took a couple minutes to draw the physical circle.

With only a few minutes left, Roy stepped into the middle of the Transmutation Circle, Havoc and Hawkeye watching from just off the slate. Marcoh was standing on the slate, but not inside the circle, ready to preform the transmutation.

"Are you ready?" Marcoh asked.

Roy nodded. "No use in waiting," he said.

Marcoh turned to Riza and Jean. "No matter what happens, do _not_ run into the center of the Transmutation Circle. Only do so if I give you the all-clear first."

Both of the blondes nodded. They had been around enough alchemists to know the hazards coming with the craft.

"Alright then," Marcoh said. He turned toward the circle and took out the Philosopher's Stone, which he stuck in between his teeth. With no ceremony whatsoever, Marcoh knelt down and pressed his palms to the outside edge of the Transmutation Circle.

Riza noticed a few things when Marcoh began the transmutation.

First, Roy was unusually stiff and nervous, though he tried to hide his anxiety. Then, the placing of Marcoh's palms on the edge of the circle was accented by a flash of lightning and boom of thunder, soon accompanied by a sudden downpour of rain.

_Flash! Boom! Crack! Sizzle…_

Sizzle?

Riza's eyes widened at the unexpected noise. _Please, _she mentally pleaded. _Don't let that mean what I think it meant…_

But as Riza peered at the circle, she knew her suspicions were correct.

The light that was quickly spreading along Marcoh's meticulously drawn Transmutation Circle had abruptly stopped…

…For the sudden deluge that Riza noticed at the beginning of Marcoh's transmutation had washed away over a quarter of the Transmutation Circle.

Riza knew that every _millimeter _of chalk counts in a Transmutation Circle.

Havoc stared at the circle. "What..." he whispered.

"Doctor Marcoh! The rain has washed some of the Transmutation Circle away!" Riza cried through the downpour.

Doctor Marcoh looked up and saw that she was correct. When he chanced a glance back at Riza and Havoc, he saw Riza heading towards the slate.

"Stay back!" he roared. "I can fix this, but if one of you two come into the circle, you might mess everything up!"

Riza stepped back, hearing the reason in Marcoh's statement, but still wore a conflicted look upon her face. Havoc was silently observing the chaos, hoping for the best.

Doctor Marcoh turned back to the Transmutation Circle, sweat beading on his brow. He took out the Philosopher's Stone from in-between his teeth and threw it into the middle of the destroyed circle. Roy had been standing stock-still since the first sign of trouble, but when he saw Marcoh throw the Stone into the circle, he stepped towards the red object, realizing Marcoh's intent.

"No!" Roy yelled, but Marcoh ignored him. Pressing his palms into the slate with a renewed intensity, the alchemist altered _something_ about the transmutation, but Riza couldn't tell what the change was.

The circle went dim for a moment, then flashed thrice, in sync with the Stone's flashes. After the second flash, the next flash of light became abnormally bright and expanded, blinding the occupants of the garden. When the brightness level of the garden returned to normal, Riza and Havoc rushed over to the broken circle and Roy. Doctor Marcoh sat down and watched them.

Riza reached Roy first. "What happened, Colonel? Are you alright?" she asked.

Roy nodded. "I'm okay," he said, but his tone left a question in both Riza and Jean's minds.

Havoc took his cigarette from the corner of his mouth, which he had absentmindedly taken from his pocket when the rain had started. "What about your eyes?" he asked. "Are they fixed?"

Roy sighed and opened his eyes. They were still a clouded gray. "No. They're not fixed."

Havoc shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He exhaled. "Well, just because it didn't work this time doesn't mean we can't try again, right?"

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, Havoc."

Riza was kneeling next to Roy, the rain splattering on her uniform and rolling down her back. She turned to Havoc and showed him her cupped hands—or more accurately, what was _inside_ her cupped hands.

Laying in tiny red, glittery pieces in Riza's hands was the Philosopher's Stone.

* * *

**[1]: There's a conference in Central that every military official above the rank of Major (with the exception of State Alchemists) in attendance that begun to meet a week after Promised Day. They make the decisions for a while about what happens next with Amestris.**

**A/N: Sometimes I feel like I take myself too seriously. I mean, who's really reading this stuff? I got 4 reviews last chapter, maybe some more for this one?**

**Review, for the sake of a new Royai story! I command you! :3**

**Happy Hunting,**

**~TVMC**


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